"American Boy"

Sitting outside on the concrete patio of what can barely qualify as a bar, I sip some Prosecco. The bubbles in the wine are refreshing to the taste after tap water all day and a hardly satisfying meal of again flavorless penne pasta with ragu sauce and some sort of mystery meat. I chat with my friends aimlessly at a four person table, while a group of 20 of more other American students attempt to rearrange all the other metal and plastic tables into a snaking line that resembles a massive family sitting down to a raging thanksgiving dinner of wine and beer.

I think to myself this isn’t an Italian experience. If I wanted to get smash drunk every night, I should have just spent the $120 for a fake ID in the United States and the other $1200 of my plane ticket on a new wardrobe. Yet as my spirits are getting down, and the other students are getting high on spirits of another kind, the song “American Boy” by Estelle, a British hip-hop star, comes on and the cultural irony kicks in with the tune’s catchy beats.

Studying abroad in Paderno, Italy, I expected an extreme culture shock – somewhere where I would be submerged in the Italian culture. Not understanding the language or traditions, I thought all the students would try to learn quickly and blend in. Oh, how I was wrong. Yet, slowly I have realized that the culture here in Italy is as affected by American culture as we are by the expectations and assumptions that the media has given us of Italy.

While the culture in deeply routed in its history and takes pride in its Italian heritage, everywhere you go, even in Paderno’s little town, is spotted with English and other universal signs. The Italian high school students on campus sport shirts that say “New York” or “Abercrombie” and in Venice there is a Blockbuster. Also in Trieste, I think I saw more stores with English names than Gucci bags.


Also, as if “American Boy” was not enough of an insight into the mix of influences on Italy, last night my advisory group for school went out to dinner. The 11 of us traveling by bus trekked to Bassano, which is about 30 minutes away, to a club called Panic Jazz. Climbing the stairs to the second story restaurant and club, we could hear the smooth trumpet of Miles Davis coming from the speakers. Jazz music was definitely one of the last types of music I expected to hear while I was abroad, yet even more of a surprise was listening to that American jazz music, while drinking Italian wine, and eating Mexican food! I had an amazing chicken burrito, filled with red, orange, and yellow peppers and shredded chicken that was moist and seasoned. Even though the Mexican food was not exactly the same as the American Mexican food that you get in the states, it was more fun to try the Italians take on another culture’s food.

Being in Italy is no longer about becoming as Italian as possible, but about accepting the culture and contributing to the mixing pot of culture that is growing in this area. It is about eating as much good food as possible, sharing a pitcher of Italian wine (even if we can’t hide our loud American, drunken selves) and getting to know the people, no matter their nationality, around you.